


The Driver's Wife

by Dearheart42



Category: Motorcity
Genre: F/M, Gen, a boy and his car, also I wanted an excuse to make this crack pairing somewhat legit, and I won't say anything more because it'll give away the whole story, and explore Mike's subconscious, and it might as well be me, and make him angst a little bit, because SOMEBODY needed to do this, shutting up now, so there's that
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-05
Updated: 2013-01-05
Packaged: 2017-11-23 17:18:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/624628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dearheart42/pseuds/Dearheart42
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>"...You're Mutt."</i>
</p><p>
  <i>"Yeah, Sherlock."</i>
</p><p>
  <i>"<b>My</b> Mutt?"</i>
</p><p><i>"<b>My</b> driver. Oh! We have now reached the point of the conversation where you <b>stop being an idiot</b> and let me save your nonexistent butt for the umpteenth time."</i> </p><p>Lovingly <s>ripped off</s> inspired by the episode, “The Doctor’s Wife” from the greatest scifi show in existence, Doctor Who. (Which you do not necessarily need to know in order to appreciate this story. But yes, rest assured there will be tons of references.) This probably won't be your typical Motorcity fic, but I hope you still enjoy it!</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Driver's Wife

  **~ -:- ~**  


Something warm and soft was pressing against his shoulder.

Mike hummed contentedly, eyes still closed, and reached over to hug the unknown pillow to his chest; but the pillow jumped up before he could touch it and clambered over him, nuzzling his left elbow and whining.

Wait…the pillow was _whining?_

Groggy and confused, he opened his eyes to find a pair of bright copper-brown ones staring back, a cold nose pressed against his own.

“What the—oof!”

Paws pinned his shoulders down before he could finish his thought and suddenly there was a long, wet, enthusiastic tongue licking sloppy kisses all over his cheeks and nose and—

“Whoa, _whoa!_ _Easy_ there, little buddy,” he laughed, nudging the brown four-legged kisser off his chest. He sat up and rose unsteadily to his feet, wrinkling his nose as he wiped off the dog-drool, and glanced at his surroundings.

Or rather, his _lack_ of surroundings. It wasn’t his bedroom. Or the garage. Or _anywhere_. In every direction he turned, he could see nothing but darkness.

“Huh. Weird.”

The 18-year-old frowned and stretched out his arms to feel around him. No walls, no furniture, no echoes to indicate what kind of space he was in…there didn’t even seem to be a floor or a ceiling, though he definitely felt like he was standing upright. There was no light anywhere; yet he was still able to see his own limbs with total clarity when he moved. He could also see the spunky little dog as clear as day (who was now barking and jumping up at him), but he was too busy processing his situation to give it any attention.

Every logical part of him was warning: _You don’t know where you are. You don’t know how you got here. You should be worried. Very, very worried._

Yet he wasn’t. If anything, he felt completely secure. The darkness surrounding him was calming and familiar, like a secret hideaway or a blanket wrapped around him. It was nice. Strange, but nice.

The dog was still barking. Bemused, Mike watched the furry stranger run in frantic circles around his legs, wagging its tail and leaping joyfully, as if it knew him like an old friend and was welcoming him home after a long, long absence and it had missed him _so much, oh welcome home Boy, welcome home! You’re home, you’re home!_

_Home?_

Something stirred inside him. A whisper, a memory, an echo of a life somewhere far away and long ago…

_“Pleeeeaase, Mom! Please let me keep her!”_

Warm recognition flooded his heart like midday sun pouring through the empty docking ports above Motorcity. _It couldn’t be._ He dropped to his knees – slow, cautious, as if moving too fast would shatter the dream (he _had_ to be dreaming; there was no other way any of this made sense) – and put a hand on the dog’s head and breathed a name:

“Mutt?”

She yelped in reply and knocked him over, licking his face and neck all over again with twice the enthusiasm. Mike gasped, though whether it was from the slobber or his own delighted surprise he couldn’t tell; and he laughed again, pulling his childhood buddy closer and burying his face in the warm, brown fur. “Mutt! I can’t believe it…it’s you, it’s _really you!_ Man, I missed you…”

Mutt whined over and over, trembling, still kissing her long lost Boy everywhere she could reach, and eventually calmed down enough to snuggle under his chin. They both were quiet for a minute, content to just be a boy and a dog again and stay in their happy tangle of limbs and paws and disheveled hair. Just like before.

Before the never-ending Kanebots.

Before military school.

Before lying dictators and decaying underground cities.

Before he knew what cruelty looked like.

Mike exhaled and pulled back a little, rubbing fond circles behind her floppy ears. “This is some dream,” he murmured. “Feels pretty real, too.”

Mutt cocked her head, panting slightly; and he could have sworn she was smiling at him.

He grinned back and ruffled the fur on her hackles. “Hey, did you know I named my car after you? She’s kind of a mutt too, but she’s a thing of beauty…and _you_ are her patron saint. I wish you could see her. Heh, I bet you’d love car rides; I can totally see you sticking your head out the window—Mutt?”

The dog squirmed out of his arms, ran a few paces ahead; then halted and looked back at him with bright, eager eyes. She barked once. Twice. Turned and ran ahead several more paces.

_Come, Boy! Follow! Follow!_

_Follow where?_

He stood up and squinted at where her paws had been moments before. Everywhere she scampered, a trail of glowing pawprints was left behind…difficult to pinpoint at first, like spots dancing behind his eyelids, but growing clearer and more numerous every second. The prints were vivid green and the farther Mutt circled and zig-zagged, the more they spiraled out into the nothingness, shining strong and urgent.

A galaxy of makeshift stars, given to him to chart a course through this blank dreamscape.

Mutt barked again; and though by now she seemed a fair distance away, the sound – the _call_ – was as loud and close as if she were still next to him. He could see her silhouetted against the dozens of brilliant green light-trails, head down and front paws splayed out, playful, daring… _hurry, Boy! Chase me, follow me!_

And Mike had never been one to turn down a dare.

Spellbound, he followed.

**Author's Note:**

> _**Alternate title:** "LOOK, SOMETHING SHINY!"  
>  **Music inspiration:** [“Promise”](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=edbuhwrKBXY) by Thomas Bergerson._
> 
>  
> 
> This is the first real story I've written in...how many years? Two? Three?
> 
> All I know is that my muse is back (for now anyway, gosh I hope I haven't jinxed it), and I have Motorcity to thank for it. I'm crushed that it's not getting a second season - so much epic post-apocalyptic potential flushed down the toilet, Disney you JERK - and this fanfic is one of my ways of coping, I guess.
> 
> Anyway, hang tight because this is just the prologue! The REAL fun will start in the next chapter, and things are only going to get trippier...


End file.
